


Dead Like Me

by Lanceward



Category: Dead Like Me, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Character Death
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-11
Updated: 2019-03-11
Packaged: 2019-11-15 16:23:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18076838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lanceward/pseuds/Lanceward
Summary: This is a story about Georgia Lass(yes! I shamelessly stole this name from the protagonist of Dead Like Me, a short-lived tv show I loved very much, which is also the source of my inspiration. So yeah, this can be a crossover, too), a Hogwarts Ravenclaw who, because of her unexpected death during the summer before sixth year, became one of the "undead," a "grim reaper." Their job is to remove the soul of people, preferably just before their death, and escort them till they reach the "afterlife." The story's timeline will follow Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, when Georgia was in her seventh year, revealing the other side of story-the Hogwarts under the Death Eaters' ruling. This is also my first story, so yeah, thank you for reading!





	Dead Like Me

_Death, be not proud, though some have called thee_

_Mighty and dreadful, for thou art not so;_

_…_

_Thou art slave to fate, chance, kings, and desperate men,_

_And dost with poison, war, and sickness dwell,_

_…_

_One short sleep past, we wake eternally_

_And death shall be no more; Death, thou shalt die._

_—John Donne, Death, Be Not Proud_

 

~~~

 

_I was not the only one Dumbledore has given special missions to in 1997._

_In the summer of 1996, something life-changing happened to me. I won’t try to elaborate about the detail, but Professor Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, the most prestigious wizard of our period, decided to help me. To accustom to this new way of living,I changed my name and my house, became Brook Pertinger of house Hufflepuff, six grade transfer from an unknown school in the nowhere of England._

Dim, yellow lights hanged on the ceiling of London underground station, the smell of dirt filled the damp air, covered some trace of urine. Georgia Lass sat at “Treat” food stand near the entrance, reading some newspaper _._

It was near midnight, no one was at the station except a few homeless people curled up in the corners, away from the heavy rains. 

Is it one of them? Georgia thought, and shook her head. She quickly glanced through the Daily Prophet: _Albus Dumbledore’s Death: Who to Blame?_ But that’s not where her attention was. In her windbreaker she took out a small, wrinkled note with only three lines:

_M. Bates_

_10:59 pm_

_Bernie Wood Station, London_

“Who is Albus Dumbledore?” A voice came from above.

Georgia glanced up at the young muggle waitress about her age. Her name tag said “Linda.” Georgia quickly folded the newspaper and gave her a nervous smile.

“Oh, um, no one.”

_Albus Dumbledore, when did he became no one? Everybody else might forget him, but not me. Half the Saturdays of year six, he would invite me to his office, as my counselor, my mentor. At first, it was just some small talks about many things. Potions, Transfigurations, Divination, everything. Sometimes he would mumble some names, like Tom, and maybe Harry. He told me not to mind._

_One day was different. The first second I got into his office he was in a mess, so was his office. He quickly apologized to me and asked me to do one favor. It was the first time he asked me to do things. He hoped I could help me find a container, a small box, then said it was pure madness and handed me a ring and a name, Tom Riddle._

“Funny that newspaper of yours, I thought the picture was moving.” The waitress stood at there, looking at Georgia curiously. “Hello? Still there?”

Suddenly woke up from the deep thoughts, Georgia didn’t know what to say. 

“What?”

“The store is closing, no more free seats.” The waitress was changing her work clothes. The ice cream machines were switched off, so are the reading lights. 

Without a choice, Georgia stood up. Just then, she heard someone walking into the station. Her brain boosted back to normal working speeds. She looked at the clock on the wall: 10:57. 

Perfect. Georgia moved toward the entrance and searching for the source of steps. The man showed up. A middle age, bald muggle standing there, with his perfectly overlong suit and black briefcase. A classic middle-class white-collar muggle, She thought, working in a depressingly boring job, probably has a wife and two kids waiting in the home. 

Too bad for his family. Thinking about this, Georgia paused for a moment. The man looked at her, with a tired smile. 

With a simple spell, he felt a sharp pain in his left hand, and his briefcase fell off.

“Oh! Do you need some help?” She quickly picked up the man’s briefcase and looked at the name tag on the top. M. Gulls. 

No, not him. 

After giving back the man’s briefcase Georgia looked at the clock again.

10: 58.

She was running out of time. 

The train track started to vibrate, horns came from one the far of the tunnel. 

Tick Tock, Tick Tock, Quick, think, Georgia, think!

“Hey! The lady on the other side!”

Georgia turned around, it’s the waitress again. She was waving at her happily, there’s something in her hand.

“You forgot your coat!”

The waitress walked over and handed Georgia the coat. She had changed back to her regular dress, with her backpack. On there were some college stickers, with a big “M” embroidered on the left strap.

A spark goes through Georgia’s head. The vibrating of tracks is getting more significant, train horn is getting louder. There is no other choice but ask. 

“Hey, is your name Linda?”

“Linda? Oh, it’s an abbreviation for Malinda. I’m sorry I have to go, my roommate is waiting for me.”

She smiled awkwardly, started to walk to the entrance. 

“Malinda Bates?”

The waitress stopped, turned around with an astonishing face. 

“Do I know you?”

“I, I’m just thanking you for the coat.” Georgia approached and gave her a touch on the shoulder. Some white ripples appeared on the waitress’ back. She removed her soul.

The clock ticked to a 10:59. 

A huge dog appeared at the entrance, must be one of the homeless man’s. It barked so loud that it covered the sound of the train and then started to run toward Malinda. She didn’t realize the dog’s existence till it’s too late, her body spontaneously jumped in the wrong direction, to the train track. The train roared through the station, with the sound of heavy braking echos in the narrow station.

_It was a stormy afternoon. Wind roars through the shore, dark, cloudy sky made everything that is more than a hundred yard away hazy, but I could see a figure, a boy, looking out into the sea. There was a dark rocky island. Finally, I found the place that has perplex Albus Dumbledore for months. I wished this to be the last time I talk with Tom Riddle’s broken soul, or should I say You Know Who?_

Georgia quickly took her coat and walked to the entrance. To her ease, she saw the waitress stood at there with confusion and terror on her face.

“What happened?” Malinda tried to touch the wall, but her hand touched nothing. It goes through the wall. 

“What happened to me?”

“Ok, I know this is very difficult for you to accept, but, eh yes, you are dead,just as it is arranged. My name Georgia Lass, and I am your rim reaper. I’m here to help you go through your first few moments of the afterlife.”

“This isn’t real, this isn’t real!”

“Look, people die because of different causes, some causes are stupid, and others are not. Some people are young, and others are old. It was all calculated. It’s like…fate.”

Disbelieving goes through Malinda’s face. She almost fainted. Georgia caught her. 

“It is very normal to have an overreaction. Just remember to breath, and breath.”

She supported the college student to a long bench in the station, covered her with the coat, and helped her to ease the shock. After a few minutes, Malinda finally felt a little better.

“Do you believe in fate?” The girl raised her head, looking at Georgia with red eyes.

_It was a week after I told Dumbledore about that island, which supposed to be my last few days at Hogwarts. Out of nowhere, he told me to leave the school for three days, to do another favor. There was no favor._

_I first got his death from the Daily Prophet in Diagonal Alley’s showcase. When I rushed back to school his body has already gone. I guess he used this method to avoid me reaping his soul. That afternoon I found a letter, sent by the owl, with Dumbledore’s name on it. In the letter, our beloved headmaster told me not to leave the school in any matter what situation, that the school needs me._

_‘Darkest time shall come, many lost souls will need to take care of at Hogwarts, take this as my last favor.’_

_This is the last time I heard from Albus Dumbledore._

“I think everyone has their destination.” 

The train has been stopped, sirens of police and ambulance can be heard outside the station. Sounds like they just arrived. 

“We need to go now.” Georgia stands up, with this college girl she just met. 

“Wait, where are we going?” the college girl asked, then stared at the _Daily Prophet_ in Georgia’s hand. 

“That picture is moving! I’m not wrong!”

“Eh,” Georgia mumbled. She casted a distracting spell. Nobody could see Malinda, but it will be safer if nobody saw her pulling the thin air. 

They came to the outside, it was still raining. Water drops fell on Georgia and went through the girl next to her. 

“The question is where are _you_ going.” 

Suddenly, there was a light appears at a place far away, then it got closer. Before Georgia could make sense of anything in the heavy rain, she saw Malinda becoming excited:

“They are my parents! Mom! Dad!” She waved her hand.

The college girl left Georgia and ran toward that bright light.

“What’s in the afterlife?” She shouted back, keep running.

The light disappeared, so was Malinda. The rain abated a little. Georgia saw her coat on the ground.

“I don’t know.” She looked back and murmured. The medicals were rushing into the station, red and blue light flickered on the top of the police car. The middle age man was reporting to the police about the situation. 

“I’ve never been there.”

She disapparated.


End file.
